Confrontations in the Library
by ThoroughlyConsumed
Summary: Pride and Prejudice fluffy oneshot- Set after the engagement, but before the wedding. Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth, and Mr. Bennet are in the Bennet's library. Please R&R.


Hey guys! I came up with this a while ago, and I've been adding to it ever since. I really hope I did a decent job with the language; I'm new at the whole regency era lingo thing. ;)

I hope you like it!

Disclaimer: Yes, I was awakened from the dead by a voodoo master and decided to spend my time working on short, pointless stories on instead of writing another piece of world-changing literature.

In case you didn't pick up on the sarcasm there, none of the wonderful characters in this story belong to me in the slightest.

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Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth Bennet, and Mr. Bennet were all comfortably seated in the library, reading their respective novels.

Well, that wasn't entirely correct. Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet were comfortably seated in the library, reading their respective novels, while Mr. Bennet was asleep in his armchair, a book in his lap, head lolling to the side, and mouth agape.

The peace and quiet of the library, combined with his old age, had caused poor Mr. Bennet to summit to the sweet bliss of slumber, leaving the engaged couple alone in the world of the conscious.

Mr. Darcy, however, was suffering terribly in his seat across from Elizabeth. The source of Mr. Darcy's troubles lay in the hands of the very girl previously mentioned, for she was looking especially wonderful today, distracting him totally and completely from his fine work of literature.

Mr. Darcy stole a, what was intended to be brief, glance at the future Mrs. Darcy, engraving a portrait of her beautiful features in his mind as she quietly read. He watched her eyes sparkle as she took in the words of her book. He stared as she gently brushed some soft hair away from her eyes, never wavering from the page. Then, he watched as the left corner of her mouth lifted in what appeared to be amusement. He was so busy gazing at her, he started at the sudden sight of her moving lips and soft, teasing voice whispering through the air.

"My dear Mr. Darcy, how do you suppose I concentrate on my novel if you keep staring at me in that manner? I must say, it is most distracting, and I fear if you continue to do it any longer, I shall have to rise and make my way over to your chair to confront you about it," Elizabeth said, as her grin grew steadily larger, still never moving her eyes away from her novel.

Poor Mr. Darcy had the proper grace to blush at Elizabeth's insinuation. But he soon recovered himself and quickly responded, "Well, Elizabeth, I assume by the word "confront" you are threatening me, and your fondest wish is to intimidate me by this statement."

He rose and began to walk closer to her as he spoke in a sly tone. "However, taking into consideration that you are my fiancé, my dearest friend, and the only woman I will ever love…"

He reached her chair and leaned closer to her body, so that he could look into her dark, expressive eyes. He quickly glanced at her mouth and then back up to those eyes, the sight of her soft, pink lips making him gulp before continuing, even quieter than before, "and I feel that close confrontation is extremely beneficial when the subject on hand concerns maintaining healthy relationships, I cannot help but see your vague statement as an invitation…"

Elizabeth was staring up at him, her lips parting slightly as she asked breathlessly, "An invitation to what, exactly, Mr. Darcy?"

He couldn't help but glance down at her lips as she spoke, watching their motions and wondering…

Now it was Mr. Darcy's turn to become breathless as he replied, "to escape from being a gentleman for a moment."

His head tilted very slightly as he watched those captivating eyes darken and sparkle into a wondrous combination he had never seen before. He slowly lowered his mouth, drowning in anticipation at the scent of her soft hair and closeness of her being.

And then their lips touched, and Mr. Darcy immediately decided that being a gentleman was extremely overrated.

He gasped as she pushed her mouth closer to his, utilizing her right hand as leverage, while the left curled at the nape of his neck, brushing the curls there and making him wild. He put one hand on the side on her face; he wanted her to be reassured of the love and happiness he felt for her.

Elizabeth slowly stood up, and Mr. Darcy placed a hand on her back to secure her. Now the pair was vertical, and he nearly groaned at how her soft body fit into his so perfectly.

He got another surprise when Elizabeth's mouth opened just slightly, and her tongue gently touched his lips.

Darcy couldn't help but respond in full, his tongue tracing her lips and slipping inside her mouth.

It was official. He was going to hell. Eternal damnation seemed the only suitable punishment for such an act. A man simply could not experience this pure ecstasy without ending up owing a terrible price. At this point, he was thinking the fiery depths of hell seemed a likely payment.

It was not possible to hope for salvation after feeling the length of her body pressed into his in exactly the right places. With the way her mouth tasted? With the way her eyelashes would brush against his skin ever so slightly? With the way she was stoking his neck, giving him goose bumps all over his body? Yes, he was most certainly going to hell.

And every damn second was worth it.

As his mouth slowly traveled down her jaw line and neck, letting her catch her breath, he marveled at the way her skin felt against his lips, before going back to her mouth for more.

Mr. Bennet snored loudly.

Mr. Darcy gasped at the sudden absence of her body, the cold air suddenly cooling all the places that had become heated at their contact. He looked up at her quickly to see her staring frightfully at her father, who was thankfully still asleep. He let out an internal groan at the sight of her- dark hair slightly rumpled, eyes shining, face flushed, and lips red and wet.

He turned away quickly, back facing her, breathing deeply and collecting his thoughts. After a minute, he turned back slowly, licking his lips, and trying not to think about how wonderful she looked standing there, waiting expectantly for him to speak.

He took another deep breath before gazing down at his shoes and softly apologizing, "I am so terribly sorry, Elizabeth, for taking advantage of you in such a manner. It was inexcusable, and I vow never do such a thing again before we are wed. I know you must think I am a disrespectful scoundrel now, and I hope I have not ruined our engagement, for I sincerely do not believe I could survive another day without you."

He waited with baited breath for her reply, scared out of his wits that he would once again have to live without her. Heaven knew that it was enough of a challenge to keep away from her whilst she abhorred him. Now that he had a taste of her, figuratively and literally, he couldn't bear the thought of going back to an existence without her. He would go insane.

He slowly raised his eyes to her face and was astonished to see laughter in her eyes and a smile on her lips.

Elizabeth took in his expression and softened her features, knowing it was not the time to laugh; it would clearly only distress her poor beloved further.

She took a step towards him and gently stroked her soft hand down his face before quietly saying, "My dear Fitzwilliam, please, I beg you to never doubt my feelings for you. They will never change, never waver, and you will always be the only man I ever love."

She watched his eyes lighten, and she stood on her toes and quickly placed a loving kiss on his lips. She pulled back again, eyes sparkling once more, as she grabbed his hand and said, "Now follow me."

He complied with her obediently, a huge smile threatening to break loose from his composed demeanor.

He heard her shout to Mrs. Bennet that they were going for a quick walk in the garden, and before he knew it, he was out the door and following Elizabeth down the worn, garden path.

They reached an old stone garden bench, and she turned to him, looking pointedly from the bench to his face. He smiled and dutifully sat down. She returned the gesture and promptly placed herself on his lap.

Mr. Darcy gasped as strange, new feelings surged through his body, but before he could make any comments, her mouth was on his, and all coherent thought dissipated into the cool, garden air.

After a minute, Elizabeth pulled away, eyes sparkling, one corner of her mouth turned up once again. She gently traced Darcy's cheekbone and jaw line before saying, "Fiztwilliam, do promise me something."

Mr. Darcy "_hmmmmmmmed_" in response as he buried his face in her hair. Next ot her ear, he whispered, "Anything you want, my darling, for I am your eternal slave."

Elizabeth laughed a little breathlessly as he began to do wonderful, unspeakable things to the skin of her neck. "Is that so Mr. Darcy? Well then, my promise will be an exceptionally easy one to fulfill."

She gently pulled his head away from her neck, as she looked him in the eyes, her thumb rubbing his jaw. "Fitzwilliam, you must promise to never apologize for kissing me again." Her eyes glittered at his expression, and her mischievous smile was making his heart beat much faster than the normal standards.

"Also, you must promise that you will allow me to kiss you whenever I please, whatever occasion, no matter the company."

His mouth lifted into a breathtaking smile as she said, "Elizabeth Bennet, I swear to agree to your demands." He laughed and said, "No matter how much we traumatize our poor company."

She smiled at him fully now, and he physically felt his heart swell in his chest, until it felt as though it would burst. They continued to look into each other's eyes, not caring about anything in the world outside of one another.

Elizabeth bit her lip, as she looked into his dark eyes, and then whispered into the air, "Fitzwilliam Darcy, I demand you to kiss me."

Mr. Darcy could do nothing but oblige, and as he kissed the future Mrs. Darcy, he decided that confrontations in the library would have to become a regular occurrence from that moment forward.

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Okay, so there it was.

I hope I did okay. I liked the beggining and end better than the middle.

I was also extremely nervous to write and post this because Jane Austen is such a magnificent and timeless author. Her work is untouchable, and I don't want anyone to feel as though I tarnished it in any way by writing this.

I am also aware that this is not very realistic, but if you could ignore that part, was it still okay?

I would really appreciate the constructive criticism. But no flames please.

PS- I usually go check out my reviewers' profiles/stories, as long as they fall into a category I read. And if I read it, I'll review it. So if you're an author, you have an ulterior motive! ;)


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